


Life is effed up

by stillbored516



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Drugged Sex, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Trans, Trans Character, Trans Dave, Trans Dave Strider, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-01-30 13:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12654207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillbored516/pseuds/stillbored516





	1. Chapter 1

Dave sat at his desk. School. Not one of his favourite activities. He much prefered skating or even reading. The thing about school is that you don’t get to pick what you want to do. Like, if you wanted to read fiction (Dave’s favourite) you would be forced to read non-fiction. When you did get to read the genre that you like, you would be forced to read a book that you don’t like. Dave was currently reading N0S4A2. He was really enjoying it, although he only had a few pages left, he was still invested and was reading even when the teachers were talking. He had gotten in trouble for that more than his share of times. He looked up at the clock, almost time to go.

The bell rang and Dave started packing up his stuff, another reason school is not one of his favourite things, teachers would make you wait until after the bell had rang for you to be able to pack up, causing you to be late to your next class most of the time. As soon as Dave had packed up his total of 2 notebooks and 3 pens/pencils, he stood up. He immediately fell over back into his desk. Hoping that no-one saw, he stood up again, this time being more careful to  _ not _ fall over. He succeeded. Some kids were snickering in the back of the class, they had seen. “Oh well,” he thought. They would probably give him a hard time later for that. Dave was seen as a  _ popular kid  _ by most of the school, but the ones that didn’t see him that way, were the bad kids. Bad as in bullies. He tugged at his long, red sleeve.

He walked into the lunchroom. Food, yay. The last time that Dave had eaten was two days ago for dinner. It’s not like Bro would care, he was hardly ever even there anyway. Dave sat at an empty table in the back. Hopefully no one would notice him back there. He pulled out his phone and opened up Pinterest. He browsed that for a while, at least until he heard someone sit across from him. “HEY FUCKER! LOOK AT ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU,” this mystery person yelled at Dave.

“Yes?” Dave said, looking up.

“WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU SITTING ALONE,” mystery person, no wait, troll, asked.

“None of your business,” Dave almost shouted, but remembered to not make any more enemies.

“I’M MAKING IT MY BUSINESS, SO FUCK YOU,” this troll thinks he owns the place, comes into Dave’s space, and yells and swears?!  
“NO, FUCK YOU, YOU THINK YOU CAN COME IN HERE AND MAKE ME OPEN UP, TO YOU, A COMPLETE STRANGER?! NO!” Dave breaks. Wow, that didn’t take much.

The troll storms off, swearing under his breath. Great. Dave just had another chance to make a friend and completely fucked it up. Again. Good thing he has art next, a little something to take his mind off of what just happened. 

Art comes and Dave realizes he fucked up even more, the troll is in his art class. Even worse? He’s at the same table. Luckily, Dave has his earbuds in, so, by social expectations, he doesn’t have to talk to anyone. Unfortunately, it appears that social norms on Alternia are different. 

“YO FUCKWAD,” the troll said, surprisingly, with a neutral volume.

“What do you want asshole,” Dave questioned.

“I WANT TO KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU’RE SO UPSET AT.”

“I’m not upset.”

“Liar.”

“What was that?

“You heard me,” the troll said.

Dave decided to simply turn up his music, it was a studio day anyway, and ignore the troll. He couldn’t hear the troll swearing up a storm through his music. Boy did that kid like to swear!

Dave starts a new drawing, not knowing where he’s going with this particular piece, he starts to draw a profile of a face. He has an idea. 

**Hanging man.**

Might as well, I mean, if he doesn’t draw it, then he might do it himself, and despite what Dave might think, that would hurt a lot more than it would help. Suicide has been on Dave’s mind for a few years, since he was 13. Being 15 now, he could say that he has “experience”. He had been hurting himself since he was 12, and he had been depressed as long as he can remember. That’s life right?

Dave realizes that he had been staring at his sketchbook without drawing anything for a solid three minutes. Now the question was, should he do a profile, or a full body hanging man? He decides on the full body portrait and gets to work. He starts with the body, rope is easier to add in later.


	2. Chapter 2

Dave gets home and immediately goes into his room. He was starving, but didn’t feel like eating. He hardly ever feels like eating anymore. He was disgusting already, why add more fat to that? In his room he has his bed, a desk, and a bookcase. His bookcase is overflowing with books and his desk is a mess. He flops on his bed and pulls his laptop onto his lap.  Pinterest or Tumblr, the question of his life. He decides on Pinterest, he’s not in the mood for his dark Tumblr right now. 

Dave is in a good mood, for once, and he feels like socializing. He exits his room and goes to wander the house in search of people. He finds his bro in the livingroom watching tv and drinking a beer. Looks like he won’t be socializing at home tonight. 

He leaves the house, hoping that he doesn’t run into any of the mean kids. He walks aimlessly for a while, but ends up at the park by the middle school. Time for the swings! Sometimes, he  _ is  _ a child. Stepping up to the swings, he hears his name called from behind him. 

“Fuck,” he whispers under his breath, what does he want this time? He gets off of the swings that he had just sat on and starts walking away.

“Hey! Don't ignore me when I'm talking to you,” he yells again.

Dave keeps walking, but he hears the footsteps behind him speed up, causing him to speed up as well. The set of footsteps behind him sound much closer now, when he feels a hand in the small of his back push him over. Dave tumbles to the ground, slicing his hand open in the process.

“Answer when you're spoken to lowblood,” the troll directly above Dave speaks. Dave doesn't give him the satisfaction of an answer. The troll slaps him. Dave opens his mouth, more in surprise than anything, but doesn't allow any noise to escape. The troll seems to be done with Dave, not getting the response he wanted, but then he reaches in his pocket, pulling out a little white pill. 

“Do you know what this is? No? This is called rohypnol. Do you know what it does? No again? It's a date rape drug.” 

At the sound of the drug, Dave immediately tries to get away, but he gets kicked down almost as soon as he gets a foot under him.

“Oh, you know what that is, don't you?”

Dave continues to struggle against the large troll, trying to stop the pill from going into his mouth. He struggles for a couple minutes, but eventually, the troll wins and gets the pill into Dave’s mouth. Dave spits it out. They struggle for a while more, but, again, the troll got the pill into Dave’s mouth, covering it in order to ensure that it stays. The saliva in his mouth is overpowering and he swallows. He continues to struggle, hoping to get away before the drug kicks in, but he can already feel the effects starting. Dave fights, but by now the troll can easily overpower him, picking him up and half carrying, half dragging him into the bathroom in the park.

In the bathroom, the troll pushes Dave into the large handicapped stall. At this point, Dave is too tired to fight back. “That’s right slut, it’s my turn,” mocked the troll.

“No,” Dave slurred, barely able to get the single word out.

“Oh, yes.” The troll pulls down his pants, revealing the growing bulge underneath. Dave can barely keep his eyes open, but at the sight of the bulge, he gives struggling one last effort. The troll slaps him and exclaims, “What do you think you’re doing bitch? I own you, you have no choice in the matter.” The troll pulls down Dave’s pants, only to be surprised with, instead of a penis, Dave has a vagina! “Well, what do we have here? You’re a girl? Eww… You must be one of those trannies. Oh well, better for me anyway.” With this, the troll shoved his bulge in Dave’s pussy. He groans, enjoying the feeling. Dave’s half-conscious mind registers that the troll is speeding up, saying, “Oh yeah, that’s good!” 

Filling Dave with purple tinted cum, the troll groans. Dave can barely even hear him. All he knows in this moment is that he is dirty. So fucking dirty. The kind of dirty that won’t come out, even with a shower. 

The troll takes a few minutes to sit in the afterglow of his release before getting up. He slaps Dave one more time, Dave couldn’t even make a noise at that one, although he could feel the drug starting to wear off, just a little though. The troll whispers in Dave’s ear, “I know your secret, no-one better know mine,” and leaves the bathroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Dave is laying on the bathroom floor for who knows how long, probably a couple more hours. By the time he has enough control over his body, the sun has, by the looks of it, just dipped below the horizon. Dave tries to get up and immediately falls over. Tries again and falls over again. He lies on the floor for a few more minutes before trying again. This time he succeeds. His vision goes black for a few seconds, but he manages to keep his balance, barely.

Dave walks out of the bathroom and starts the now very long walk home. He’s sore and disgusted and he doesn’t even want to go home; he wanted to disappear. He walks into the door before remembering that they had a glass door that Bro often kept in place instead of the actual door. Bro looks over from where he was sitting on the couch at the noise. “What the fuck,” questions Bro.

“It’s nothing, I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.”

“It’s only 9:00 though, you don’t usually go to bed for a few more hours.”

“Fuck off my back Bro.”

Dave walks into his room before he takes a shower, looking for one, dangerous item. “There you are.” Dave had found his spare razor blade. Holding the blade in his hand, he limps down the hall, realizing that he is hurting much more than he usually is. He opens the door to the bathroom and silently closes the door behind him.Turning on the shower, his mind is on auto-pilot. Taking off his clothes he realizes that his nether regions are bleeding. There is blood all over his underwear by now and is starting to leak through to his, luckily black, jeans. After he is undressed, he opens up the shower curtain, not realizing that the water is steaming hot. Sitting in the shower, he grabs the bar of soap and starts to scrub. Scrubbing hard, along with the hot water, Dave’s skin starts to turn pink and raw.

Dave feels disgusting. He feels as if there is dirt under his skin, but worse. He feels ruined, is what he feels. Scrubbing even harder, Dave can’t get clean. He’s never going to be clean again. At least, that’s how it feels. He feels dirty in his blood. His blood is tainted. The one way that he can think of to get clean, the one way he can think of to feel fixed, is to cut. Let all of that nasty blood out of his body. Let the dirt run from his veins. Let the purple disgusting that was still on his body before he started scrubbing, out.

One cut. Barely a scratch.

Two cuts. Slightly worse, but still not that deep.

Three cuts. This one is bad; he can’t see the fat, but he can see distinct layers of skin.

Four cuts. Worse

Five cuts. He can see the fat finally.

Six, seven, eight. He’s starting to lose track already, his mind going blank.

By the time he remembers to look down and make sure he’s not dead, he has over 50 cuts. He doesn’t scream, he doesn’t even gasp. He can’t feel them anyway, why should he be scared? They can’t be that bad if they don’t hurt, right?

Dave feels better, although that might be the blood loss. He shuts off the water and his arm is bleeding all over the tub that he’s sitting in. Reaching with his other hand, he goes beneath the sink for an ACE bandage that he knows is there. Grabbing it, he leans his body back into the tub. While he wraps the bandage around his wounded limb, he can’t even think, he feels so good. He has finished wrapping his arm and turns on the shower again to wash away any and all remaining blood in the shower, somehow some had gotten on the wall! He turns off the water yet again. He stands and his vision goes black again, this time he knows that he needs to sit down or he’s going to make a lot of noise. He sits down, still being a little loud, but not nearly as loud as he would have been if he had fallen over. His vision is still black and he’s starting to be a little scared, why can’t he see?

His vision comes back and he stands up again. This time his vision is only black for a few seconds. Stepping out of the tub, Dave pulls his long sleeve baseball tee on and his jeans, leaving his underwear in the trash. If questioned about it, he would just say he’s on his period. That would explain the limp too. 

In his room, he  flops on his bed and goes to sleep.


	4. Self hate

Dave sleeps through the night, for once, and wakes up to his alarm in the morning. He wonders why he had to wake up, why couldn’t he sleep forever? Wait. There’s no reason why he can’t. He rolls over and goes back to sleep, ignoring the fact that today he’s supposed to have school.

Eventually, when he can’t physically sleep anymore, he gets up. He still feels like there’s an inch of dirt under his skin. Going into the bathroom, he stares at his face. 

_ Dirty _

_ Used _

_ Failure _

_ Disgusting _

Dave hasn’t realized it yet, but he’s crying. A few teardrops run down his pale cheeks from his sunken eyes. He looked like he got socked in the face, black under circles and crying. When he finally notices that he’s crying, he just starts bawling. Sobs wracking his body, he collapses to the floor. Looking up at his reflection, he notices how bad he looks. Along with appearing like he got whacked in the face with a baseball bat, he also looks like he hasn’t slept in 4 days, which is weird because he literally just slept for, wow, he just slept for 17 hours. It was now 4 p.m.

Pulling himself together, he stands and wipes his face on his shirt sleeve. He would wash it later. He limps out of the bathroom and into his room, wanting to go back to sleep. He can hear the sounds of Bro in bed with some girl. Great sounds to fall asleep to. Unfortunately, he can’t. Thoughts of what had happened were running through his mind. Don’t people always say that the victim of rape deserve it? But wait. He wasn’t raped, was he? Either way, nobody else had to know and he was still to blame. 

Sitting up in bed now, Dave has to decide what to do. Scared to go outside, he pulls his laptop up and opens tumblr. His tumblr is not a good place to be. Especially if he’s already in a bad mood. He follows mental health blogs. Not the good type of mental health though. The type that shows the bad and not the good. The type that almost, but not quite, promotes mental illness. He comes upon a picture of some self harm. That sounds good right about now, right? Oh well, he’s too lazy right now to expend the effort of getting up to go to the bathroom and doing that. He just wants to sleep forever. 

Sleeping forever. 

Putting his laptop away, he yawns. 

Sleep.

He pulls back his covers and slides in. Ever since he was a little kid, Dave had always felt safe under blankets.  He pulls the blankets over his head. It’s not helping. Guess there’s a last time for everything as well as a first time. Pulling his pillow over his face, he starts to cry, hopefully he’s home alone. Little hiccups soon turn into full body sobs. Why was he like this? What did he do to deserve this? 

Flipping the covers off of his body, he stands up. Almost passing out from the head rush, Dave sits back down, only for a few seconds though. Soon he is standing up again, walking into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he looks at his disgusting body in the mirror. His boobs, his lack of a bulge in his pants, his curvy, fat, body. He hated himself.

Feeling like he forgot something, he steps into the scorching stream of water. Dave realizes that he forgot to take off his clothes, oh well, better for him, he doesn’t have to look at his body. He sits down in the tub. Sitting is one of his favourite pastimes.

Dave stares down at his soaked clothes, that fit his form, hating himself even more. He stands up and takes off his clothes, finally. Throwing them over the curtain rod, he washes his disgusting body and hair. 

Getting out of the shower, he grabs his towel that had been hanging. Wrapping it around his body, he walks the short distance to his room. He realizes what he really forgot when he sees his razor laying on his bedside table. However, he’s too tired to cut right now, showers always help him fall asleep. He lays down in bed. Too tired to fight his own thoughts, they run wild in his head,

_ Waste of space _

_ Faggot _

_ Wrong _

_ Failure _

_ Useless. _

He’s not crying. Maybe he’s all cried out for the rest of his days. Dave’s cried so much these past few hours that it wouldn’t surprise him if that were the case. Lying there, in bed, he stares at the ceiling, hoping for some form of emotion. Right now, he didn’t care if it was happy emotion or not, he just wanted to feel something. He stares at the ceiling for a long time, a couple hours, before he can fall asleep.


	5. The bathroom, again

He’s back in that park, for  _ some _ reason . Terror flooding his body, Dave turns around to start to run, only to be met with that  _ fucking _ troll again. Eyes widening, he tries to scream, only, nothing would come out. Now that might be because of one of two things, one, the hand that now appeared to be covering his mouth, or two, sheer terror. Dave drops to the ground and the troll begins to physically drag him to the bathroom. Dave tries screaming again, even though, even if he did manage to get something out, no one would hear him. That doesn’t matter though, since he can’t even get out a whimper.

Still dragging Dave across the rough cement, the troll looks back, and smiles! The troll dragging him now has the face of the troll in his art class. “Hey fucker! Looks like it is my business after all,” the troll goes out of their way to run Dave over a rock sticking up out of the ground. He remains silent, trying to will his body to move. Why couldn’t he move? The troll arrives at the door to the bathroom and,

and he wakes up.

Now Dave is sitting in a pool of his own sweat. He looks at the clock on his wall, 7:35. If he wanted to go to school, he would have to leave in a few minutes. Of course, he doesn’t want to go, but he has to. Bro would kick his ass already if he found out that Dave had skipped school the days that he had. He gets dressed, careful of his bandaged cuts, and walks out the door. At least his limp had mostly gone away.

School. Yay.

Dave was scared. Scared of the trolls. Especially scared of two of them. The one in his art class, because of his dream, and the other one, which he hadn’t seen at school, but he knew that he went there. Classes are boring, as usual, even though he has a ton of work to make up. Some of the kids are looking at him funny, but that may be because he hasn’t been there and the kids here don’t know how to mind their own business.

The time for art class has come and Dave is terrified. Walking into the room, he surveys the area. The troll isn’t there yet. Good. He sits down at his table and pulls out his phone to turn on some music. He goes to stick his earbuds in and he glances at the door. The troll had arrived. His breathing picking up, Dave turns up the volume on his phone, hoping to block out the world. Unfortunately, the troll has other ideas. Dave can see the trolls lips moving, but he can’t hear a word that he’s saying. 

The troll, being impatient, reaches over the table and yanks Dave’s earbuds. One of which comes out. “WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU? CAN’T YOU SEE I’M TALKING TO YOU,” the troll shouts. Great, now everybody’s looking.

“What do you want,” Dave nearly sobs, his breathing almost hyperventilating. He can feel himself on the edge of a panic attack. 

_ Now is not the time to freak out, everybody’s watching, idiot. _

“I WANT TO KNOW WHERE THE FUCK YOU’VE BEEN,” the troll questions.

With this, Dave stands up and walks out of the room. He needs to get to a bathroom quickly, before he actually passes out. He finds the bathroom and slams open the door. Hoping that nobody’s in there, he stands in front of the mirror.

“It’s ok,” Dave splashes his face with some cold water from the sink, “breathe.” He goes into one of the stalls and sits down, putting his head in between his legs. He hears the door open to the bathroom open and tries to quiet his breathing. Which, he hadn’t realized until now, it was becoming blatantly loud. 

“Fuck man, are you ok in there,” he recognizes that voice, but he can’t quite place it. Dave doesn’t feel like he can answer without his voice cracking and giving him away, so he remains quiet. 

_ In and out, breathe. _

Dave’s breaths are shaky, but he’s getting somewhere. “Hello,” the voice questions. 

Feeling like he can talk again, Dave replies, “yeah, I’m good.”

“It doesn’t sound like you’re good,” Dave still can’t quite place the voice.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not, fucker,”  _ FUCK.  _ He knows that voice! It’s the troll from art class, he had followed Dave!

“GO AWAY!”

“NO, YOU FUCKING NEED SOME HELP!”

“I’M FINE, GO AWAY!”

“FUCK THAT, I’M COMING IN,” it was here that Dave realizes that he forgot to lock the stall door in his hurry. He goes to lock it, but the door opens right before he can. Having already been pushing against the door, He quickly releases the pressure on the door and slips under the stall wall, running out the door.


End file.
